Living In My Own Shadow
by LysPotter
Summary: Harry and Hermione Potter, 24 years old, have lost everything. Can they get it all back in a new universe? Harry’s parents are alive, Hermione’s a Lupin, and other crazy characters come into existence. HP x HG, DM x GW, BZ x OC, JP x LE, SB x OC, RL x OC
1. Aftermath

_**Living in My Own Shadow**_

Hey all! Been working on this one for months: finally took the initiative to post it. Of course, I have a lot more for later on in the story; just have to do some linking chapters. Basically, this is my take on the "Harry goes to an Alternate Universe" plot, which includes Hermione going with him.

**Disclaimer: **I'M the Author...I'll tell the characters what to do! (Random copyright law book smashes into side of LP's head) I don't own it! (puts hands up) Please don't sue me...

_**Summary: Harry and Hermione Potter, 24 years old, have lost everything. Can they get it all back in a new universe? Harry's parents are alive, Hermione's a Lupin, and other crazy characters come into existence. HP x HG, DM x GW, BZ x OC, JP x LE, SB x OC, RL x OC **_

**Warning: **_mentions of: child abuse, torture, rape;_ suicide, war et cetera. Not often a light, happy fic. You have been warned. Humor is pretty sparse and really bad.

**Chapter One: Aftermath, **in which Harry and Hermione lose everything and everyone, and a turn of events occurs.

Harry James and Hermione Rose Potter took twin deep breaths and looked at the total and utter devastation that had been visited on the battlefield. People were dead or dying in hordes, the injured were either desperately in need of a medi-witch or –wizard or staggering about, and those precious few who were next to unharmed were administering medical aid.

Hermione knelt down and began doing the same. The natural Healer made relatively short work of one woman's broken and bloodied arm, and a man's head wound. Harry continued to look around at the loss, until he dropped to his knees and helped his wife. The twenty-four-year-olds had no idea what was about to happen, the last effect of Tom Marvolo Riddle and his world-domination fixation.

Harry looked down at a mangled face, eyes open and staring in death, and turned away. "No," he croaked. "Aunt M-Meghan…" _I suppose you're back with Sirius now, and the two of you will have the most fun terrorizing the people of the after life,_ he thought, albeit a little bitterly. A sinking feeling started in his stomach. He looked next to his paternal aunt and let out a breath he hadn't noticed he was holding. Katherine Bassett-Lupin, obviously on the last legs of life, grasped his arm in a death grip. "They got us, Harry," she gasped out. "They got us good. But you got him back. Tell him—tell Remus I love him," she stammered. And with that, Katherine Theresa Bassett Lupin, long-time wife of Remus Lupin, died.

Where was Remus? He _couldn't_ be dead. That would be everyone…everyone! More than anything he was glad that his cousin Ashley had been talked into leaving after the initial stages of the battle. She had fought and fought, but eventually understood that in her grief-stricken haze, she could do nothing to help the SOUL (Soldiers of the Order of Unified Light) in their quest for the end of Voldemort. He couldn't lose his last connection to his family, wouldn't lose the only other living member of his family…

There he was. Remus was limping over to where Harry knelt, not even trying to pry his honorary aunt's fingers from around his arm. "Remus!" he croaked. "Over here!"

Remus nodded, and was over there faster than Harry could follow. "Kate," he said in anguish when he saw her broken, bloodied body. "She—she's not—"

Harry nodded, letting his tears fall. Remus shook his head, not wanting to believe it. "No, she can't be! Kate, wake up! Come on, love!" He patted her cheeks, leaned down and looked into her open eyes, and let out a howl of despair that had to come from the wolf in him. Hermione ran back over, and was crying as well.

Harry put an arm around her, burying his face in her shoulder. "Your parents would be proud," she managed to say, though her voice broke. "They are proud of you, up there."

Remus suddenly crumpled to the ground. Hermione rushed over and turned the suddenly unresponsive man over. He had a hand clutching his stomach. Hermione pried it away and looked at the wound, now pouring blood around burned edges. Harry shook his head, denying it. _No, not him too, not all of them. It's bad enough Ron's dead and Ashley's close to dying because of that…Aunt Meghan, Kate, Remus…_

Hermione looked up at him, her green-hazel eyes sick. "Silver," she said. "It's too severe, especially with him being a werewolf. He won't make it, Harry. He's not even breathing any more. It's got his bloodstream now."

Remus's face turned blue, then purple. Hermione's hands never left his temples as she tried to soothe his passing. "NO! Remus, you can't! Kathy—" Harry didn't even finish before he had attempted to breathe his last. She yanked her hands away, so he couldn't drag her with him to the underworld and death.

**Harry, we need to go back and see to Ashley, Kathy, and J-Jason. They need to know.** Harry nodded sadly. Hermione's eyes shone with unshed tears, and she swallowed, looking up at Harry. **It's their family that's gone,** she reminded him. **Yours too, but you know.** She put a hand on his arm.

**Let's go, Mya,** he said, offering her his hand. "Mya" and Harry Apparated straight into what had once been the Gryffindor common room.

Twenty-three-year-old Ashley Marie Black-Weasley, married to the now-deceased Ronald Weasley, sat there with an arm each around twenty-year-old twins Kathleen "Kathy" Judith Lupin-Thomas and Jason "Jay" Anthony Lupin (engaged to Natalie McDonald, who curled up against him). The four had been convinced to leave the battle at its early stages.

"Ashley," Hermione began, hoping to break the news. But Ashley was already on her feet, looking at Harry and Hermione.

"It happened. The Marauders and their wives are gone, aren't they? Just like Luna's vision said. I never doubted what that girl said…why though? _Why_?" Ashley collapsed, Harry catching her before she hit the ground and giving his cousin a reassuring hug.

Kathy, whose husband was who-knows-where in who-knows-what-condition on the battlefield they had just left, crumpled, crying. "Dean…Mya, where is he?"

"I don't know, Kathy," she admitted, dropping to her knees to comfort the broken girl. Jay and Natalie pulled each other closer. Jay's attempt to keep a face up for his weeping fiancée was lost now. In fact, everyone in the room was weeping.

There would never be a cheerful day again.

LivingInMyOwnShadow 

Hermione and Harry woke up with a start in the wee hours of the next morning, hearing a clanking and gasping in the bathroom of the boys' dormitory, which was where everyone was staying at the moment. Hermione ordered Harry to stay there and knocked on the door, opening it when she received no response.

Ashley Weasley held a silver dagger. Blood was pouring out of her arms. "Nothing left to live for," she was murmuring absently. Her eyes were clouding. Hermione placed fingers on either side of her head immediately, sensing the need for quick action.

Ashley laughed, a cold, choking laugh. "Don't waste yourself, Mya. There's nothing left for me here. I'm going to find Ron, and Mum and Dad. Tell Harry his cousin—loves—him." Her eyes closed, never to open again.

Hermione cried herself dry, sitting next to her best friend, who bled out soon after that. Harry came in a few minutes later. He saw his wife sitting next to his cousin, dead in a pool of her own blood, and gathered her into his arms. They cried over the very last member of the Black family together.

Hermione wiped her eyes nearly a half-hour later and looked at Harry. "She was pregnant, Harry. She didn't know it, she was only about two weeks along…but there was something left for her…she wouldn't take it, though, she'd lost too much." She took a deep, shuddering breath. "Have you seen the twins or Natalie?"

"They left. Jason and Natalie. For America. Too many bad memories," he told her. "They just left late last night. Kathy hasn't woken yet."

"Do a scan for Dean," she asked him. "Find out if he's still alive. She needs him, more than anything." Harry nodded, and his golden web of magic blanketed the battlefield for a moment. He suspected what he was going to find, but he was looking, for the sake of Kathy, his honorary cousin.

He found what he had been expecting. He drew his magic back, drained, and tightened his hold on Hermione. She was all he had left.

"He's gone, Mya. And Kathy is too. There's no life in the room over." She buried her head in his shoulder, crying again.

"Harry, what's happened to us?"

LivingInMyOwnShadow 

They cried themselves to sleep again. It had been a physically, mentally, and magically exhausting forty-eight hours. First the journey to the battlefield. Then cutting down the Dark forces to reach Riddle. Finally, Harry's last of many duels with the self-proclaimed Lord Voldemort. And then, the numerous emotional shocks of finding everyone they loved dead.

Tom Riddle's dying last spell, wordlessly embedded into the minds of his conqueror and his beloved, activated as the last of the Potters fell asleep in each other's arms. The strange runes glowed in silver fire around the couple, whirling around them at a fever pitch until suddenly the world as they knew it blinked out of existence. The two, spelled to remain when their universe did not, were simply squeezed into the next available universe that happened to be a very, very different setting than they were used to. They would wake up in due time, the malicious spirit of Tom Riddle, in transit to hell, thought with satisfaction.

LivingInMyOwnShadow 

Harry woke to someone shaking him. "Wake up, Harry dear," a voice penetrated his dreams…rather, nightmares.

"Mya, stop it. I need my sleep," he murmured into the pillow.

"Harry, breakfast's ready," the voice said.

Harry realized he didn't know the voice. He jumped out of bed and pointed at the woman who had been shaking him. "Who are you?" he demanded.

"It's your mum, sweetheart," she said, a little surprised. "Come on down and have some breakfast." _This must be another dream,_ he thought to himself. _I'll go with it._

"Sure," he said to the redheaded woman. She _was_ very pretty. She actually did look like Lily Evans-Potter. A few years older than when she had died, but it was Lily Evans-Potter. There was someone standing off to the side…shit, where were his glasses? He took them off the table next to him once he'd located them, and shoved them on his nose.

It was a girl with long black hair and green eyes. A girl who looked a lot like…him. _And that would be because…yes, Harry, this is a dream._ He followed the woman and the girl who his subconscious had crafted. His "mother" cut ahead of them, hurrying to what was probably a kitchen or a dining room.

"Umm, who are you?" he asked the girl tentatively as they walked down a huge flight of stairs.

"Oh, for heaven's sake, Harry," the girl rolled her eyes. "One would assume the great Boy-Who-Lived would know his own sister, however 'beneath' him she is."

"Nathalie!" came "Lily's" voice. "Nathalie" sighed. "Sorry, Mum," she called. "You're being an awful prat, Harry," she whispered viciously as she brushed past him.

**Mya!** Harry tried to call. **Mya, where are you?**

**Huh? Harry, leave me alone, I'm trying to sleep.**

**Wake up then, I'm worried.** **Where are you? Because I'm stuck in this dream with my "mother" and my "little sister". Am I awake? Because I, well, should not be awake. I have no sister; my parents are dead…This is all wrong.** He took a deep breath.

**Shit, Harry, let me wake up before you start worrying,** Hermione teased. **Let's take it from the beginning. You say your mother and your little sister are there with you.**

**Yeah, and my, er, little sister, is named Nathalie and seems to hate me.** Harry sighed. **I seem to be 'an awful prick'. Her words, not mine,** he added. **I just asked her who she was, and she threw a fit.** **Well, not a fit, exactly, but she said I was an awful prat and called me the "Great Boy-Who-Lived". Whoever she is, she's being a brat.**

"Now, now, Harry, be nice," she said aloud without thinking, sitting up in bed. Except it wasn't her bed. From anywhere. In fact, it looked like the Lupins' home, Moonlight Cottage, or something along those lines.

**Mya?** Harry asked. **Is everything all right there? Please let everything be okay…**

**I'm fine. Just in a bit of shock, seeing as I'm not at home or anything, or even a hospital. I'm not in pain. And I think I'm at Moonlight Cottage, actually.**

**What?!**

"Harry, dear, sit down. Morning, Nathalie," his "mother" said politely, if a little coolly. Nathalie muttered some unintelligible words, but Harry, used to Ron's early-morning mumblings, caught the words "always the favorite" and "bloody Boy-Who-Lived". _I didn't bloody well ask for it, Nathalie!_ he thought to himself.

**Stop it, Harry. You better not cuss your sister out,** Hermione said absently. **Dammit,** **these are not my clothes. And…BLOODY HELL!**

**What now, Mya?** Harry asked tiredly. She'd probably found out that she was getting gray hair or something. God knows they'd been through enough.

**This is **_**not**_** my body, Harry.** She allowed him a glimpse through her eyes, which were watching a mirror, in which a probably fourteen- or fifteen-year-old girl was displayed. Her hair was long, curly, and dark brown and her eyes were green-hazel. Recognizably Hermione. But only just. She hadn't been fourteen for ten years. And she was prettier at twenty-four, Harry mused.

Hermione took offence.

**You're still pretty now, love,** he hurried to reassure her. **You're just prettier later.** She seemed to accept his answer, blinking him out of her eyes.

"Lily" set a plate of eggs and bacon in front of Harry and one in front of Nathalie. "How'd you sleep, Harry dear?" she asked.

**Shit. Mya, gotta go. Mum's trying to talk to me…wait, when did I agree she was my mum?**

**Obviously right now. Well, I'm going to go figure out where—and who—my parents are. Love you, dear.** And she linked out, followed by Harry. "Oh, I, uh, slept well, Mum," he stammered. "How'd you sleep?" Nathalie looked sharply at him, and his mother looked slightly surprised. "I was just asking…you don't have to answer."

"No, no, it's fine," Lily recovered. "I had a great night's sleep," she smiled. Harry nodded with a smile of his own, and dug into his food. It'd been a while since he'd had anything to eat. Then again, it was hard to feel hungry when you thought about all the people who'd died. He tried to hold back the tears, but it was too late. They already glittered in his emerald eyes.

"What's wrong, Harry?" his mother asked, concerned. Nathalie was concentrating on her food, and paid him no mind.

"Oh, nothing…something in my eye, that's all," he excused hurriedly. "So, umm, where is, uh, Dad?" he asked innocently. Obviously his father had lived; his sister was living proof, unless his mum had remarried…to someone who looked exactly like his dad…

"Oh, I'm sorry, Harry, he had to go to work early today. An emergency mission. I'm afraid you'll have to amuse yourself today."

"Oh—oh, no problem, I was just curious, that's all." He ate a forkful of eggs and smiled at his mother. "This is really good. Thanks for breakfast, Mum," he said politely. His sister swiveled to look at him strangely. Harry felt like an animal on exhibit in a zoo, but smiled at the younger girl anyway. As soon as he finished eating, he excused himself before his mother could offer any more food or anything of the sort and got out of the room as fast as he could.

**Mya! What's going on? I need a status report! All I've managed to figure out is that my parents are alive and I have a little sister.**

**Well, Mr. Impatient, please learn some manners. I'm busy right now.**

**Oh—sorry, love.**

**Don't worry about it. Call back in half an hour, okay?**

**Of course I will. Love you.** He linked out and then realized he had no idea where he was going. Holy crap. "Where is Harry's room?" he asked the picture on the wall in annoyance, definitely not expecting an answer.

"Take your next left, go up the stairs, and take a right. Four doors down on your left," a person behind him said nonchalantly. "Though why you're asking great-grandfather John I have no idea. Don't you know where you live, oh precious boy-who-lived?" He whirled around to see the unexplainably cold Nathalie Potter, and winced.

"Oh, of course I do…just wondering if someone was following me," he lied smoothly. She wasn't impressed, but she believed him.

Thanks to his sister's unknowingly helpful directions (he made a mental note _not_ to let anyone with questionable intentions toward any place she knew talk to her), he found the room. It wasn't that difficult when he got up there. After all, there was a large sign on it that said "Harry" in big, bold letters. He thought that mightn't be too bad. At least it wasn't a cupboard under the stairs. He turned the knob to open the door and gaped at the room.

Well, for starters, it was huge. Sure, he'd seen it before. He woke up in it. But he hadn't really looked around—Moody would have slapped him upside the head (which might have triggered another flashback. Spending sixteen years with the Dursleys and then various periods of time with Voldemort's torturers after that, he didn't exactly have a positive reaction to most touch). And on top of that, it was one of the nicest rooms Harry had ever come across. Certainly nothing like the second bedroom at Privet Drive, and his and Hermione's in-the-process-of-being-refurbished home at Grimmauld Place had a long way to go before it was up to this standard. Wherever he was, it was nice. And he probably didn't belong here. Hell, he knew he didn't belong here. His _parents_ were here.

And if that wasn't weird, not much else was. The only thing that would be weirder would be if his whole extended and adopted family suddenly burst through the doors. And it would probably make it weirder if they were all singing an obnoxious traveling song, but he wasn't going to be picky.

Harry took a deep breath and collapsed on the bed. Which was very comfortable, by the way. After spending sixteen years on a lumpy mattress and seven more years here, there, and everywhere, sleeping standing up and over a desk and on the ground and even in trees, it was quite a luxury. He flicked his wrist to close the door, not bothering to get up when he was so comfortable and exhausted. He leaned his head back, asleep and snoring before anyone could say "Quidditch".

LivingInMyOwnShadow 

Hermione Rose Granger Potter had been a lot of things in her relatively young life. She'd been her parents' "Harry", as she and Harry liked to put it, their own personal house-elf, breathing punching bag, live-in baby-sitter, and much, much more for seventeen years. She'd been Hermione-the-bookworm-of-the-Trio for seven years. She'd been Hermione Potter for six-and-a-bit years. She'd even been a Captain of the Soldiers of the Order of Unified Light (SOUL) for almost nine years. But one thing she had never been was the daughter of Remus John and Katherine Theresa Lupin. Nor was she a sister to either of the people sitting beside her, presumably the Lupin twins. In fact, the only sibling she'd ever had was a friendly little boy, who was actually around sixteen last she knew, named Thomas Jonathan Granger.

So why was she sitting at the breakfast table squished between two overzealous eleven-year-old twins hyped up on their pending acceptance into Hogwarts?

She had absolutely no idea. Just like she didn't know why Remus Lupin was smiling at the three of them like he was used to this. And just like she didn't know why Kate Lupin had put a plateful of eggs and buttered toast in front of her with practiced ease. And just like she didn't know why the date on Remus's paper said 12 July 1996. Everyone knew it was 2004.

Hermione picked up a fork and prodded the eggs half-heartedly.

"They aren't poisoned," Kate said with a roll of her eyes.

"'m not hungry," she muttered, pushing the plate away from her in a gesture she never thought she'd use. She had always eaten, and, until she was twenty, hoarded food, just like a packrat, remembering days she hadn't been allowed to eat anything. But memories from the past few years had unsettled her stomach, and she no longer wanted to look at any food.

Then she realized who was around her, and her eyes widened. "Oh. My. God." She threw her arms around the babbling brown-haired boy sitting next to her and kissed him soundly on the cheek. "Jay, it's great to see you!" Before the boy could shake off the confused haze she had induced and ask her something, she turned on the girl on her other side. "And you, Kathy!" she added, kissing each cheek before releasing the girl in favor of hugging Kate. "Hi, Mrs. Lupin!" Then proceeding to Remus to throw her arms around him, "Professor, be careful about that in the future," she scolded. The whole family was staring at her, not comprehending. _Oh shit._ What had Harry said? Lily and James Potter were alive. Hermione's quick brain reached a conclusion surprisingly fast. _Alternate universe._

**Mya! What's going on? I need a status report! All I've managed to figure out is that my parents are alive and I have a little sister.**

**Well, Mr. Impatient, please learn some manners. I'm busy right now,** she snapped at her husband through their mental link (created by a potions accident that bound them together in many ways).

**Oh—sorry, love.**

**Don't worry about it. Call back in half an hour, okay?**

**Of course I will. Love you.** She shut off the link after her own goodbye, pausing to think some more. Dammit, she needed a library. Grimmauld Place's, preferably, but she'd take what she could get. And there wasn't one at Moonlight Cottage. Bloody hell, why was life so complicated?

"Oh, sorry, just got excited. Umm. Carried away. Yeah. Well. Umm. Ignore the outburst. Bad dream. Yes. That's right. Er…" Her family relaxed. _Thank God._

"Yes, Rosie?" Remus asked, grinning. Hermione pursed her lips, thinking. Whoever she was here, they called her Rosie and knew her well. At (presumably) her home universe, at this age, she knew Remus very little and was hardly ever in a room with him. She didn't know that Kate, Kathy or Jay existed, and she was afraid of everyone, living in a house with abusive parents and a seven-year-old brother. So, basically, she wasn't in Kansas anymore.

"Umm. The library," she said slowly, taking a gamble. "I have to go to the library."

From the way Kathy rolled her eyes, that was something she said quite often. Remus sighed. "Of course. Do you want to read up on something Muggle or something wizarding?"

"Wizarding," she said immediately.

"Very well. I'll see if James or Sirius minds you holing up in their library for a day."

"Or two, or seven, or the rest of the month," Jay muttered under his breath.

"Jason," his father said warningly. "Are you sure you don't want any breakfast, kid?" he asked her, concerned. Hermione shook her head. "Ah, on a research binge again, don't have any need for physical food like the rest of us common mortals, hmm?" he joked, smiling. Hermione attempted a smile, perplexed. What was that supposed to mean?

She retreated back to her room and desperately hoped her other self had some of the texts she was looking for at the moment. She needed Trapped in Time by Cynthia Berlet and Meet Yourself: Alternate Universe Theory, by Theodore O. R. Korbachev to start off her research, and while she may have had easy access to both of them in her own world, she had no idea if her other self in this world would have any reason to own either of those books. Plus, if she had any reason to own them, what would they say if they saw her reading it?

Thanks to someone watching over her, she found Berlet's time travel book. Unfortunately she did not own Korbachev's book, and she was forced to wait for that. She flipped through Berlet, looking for information on time jumps. Bypassing three chapters on Time Turners, a chapter on the Sands of Time, and two chapters on different types of time-controlled rooms, she finally came to a chapter headed _Crossing Longer Periods of Time_. Turning to the first page of information, she immersed herself in the familiar routine of research.

LivingInMyOwnShadow 

Someone knocked on her door. Hermione rolled her eyes and called out, "I'm kinda busy right now, Harry. Come back later." The someone opened the door anyway. "Harry, I said, I'm bus—" Kate was leaning on her door, arms crossed over her chest.

Kate was smirking at her "daughter". "Harry, hmm?" Hermione looked at her, confused, then remembered that morning. Oh crap.

"Well, erm, yeah," she said, playing it by ear. "I thought we were back at Hogwarts," she excused her slip.

"You're not in Harry's House, love, and I doubt he spends much time in the library. Late-night rendezvous, perhaps?" Hermione started harder at her "mother". _Think, Hermione, think fast! How to excuse…Ah!_

"Ka—Mum, that is, there's a Harry in my House." Was Harry in Slytherin, then, or was she in Ravenclaw? Either was a distinct possibility—at least with their old personas. Even Harry sorted into Ravenclaw. "Umm—Harry—you know, Harrison. Harrison Lewis. He was a new kid and I saw him in the library. He's nice, we talk a little." Harry was going to kill her for that. He hated being called "Harrison".

Kate deflated. "Oh. Well, anyway. James says it's perfectly okay for you to go ahead and spend some time in their library for today. Please just don't aggravate Harry."

"No problem. Thanks, Mum," she grinned. Well that was good news. A way to see how Harry was handling their abrupt transfer to this new universe. "I'll be good." Why did Kate think she would aggravate Harry? Wouldn't they be long-time friends if her parents were close friends with his? She shrugged mentally. Maybe Harry was working on something?

If he wasn't in the library with a few different books on Alternate Universe Theory right now, she'd be very upset. Unless he was asleep or something like that. Or sick. Or hurt…

She closed her book and followed her mother to the Floo connection. "Remus thought he'd go see James, Lily, and Nathalie, too, so you're going with him." Thankfully, Remus went first, shouting out, "Potter Manor" before he disappeared. Hermione's eyebrows rose slowly. Yet another thing Dumbledore had neglected to mention.

Hermione followed, smiling at her mother. Well, here, at least, it was supposedly the genetic truth, or at least the truth that mattered. _If only it had been the same at home,_ she thought wistfully. Imagine having lived the life she seemed to have lived here. No wondering if she'd survive the day before her family killed her, no worrying about her little brother, lest he be magical as well, just her loving family, books, and her friends. In no particular order. It would have been so different.

And maybe Harry would have shaped up and asked her out sooner, instead of carefully avoiding it for six years. She smiled. He was wonderful and absolutely darling, but the fact remained that, in matters of the heart, he had next to no tact.

She fell out of an ornate fireplace at her destination. Collecting her notebook and pencils from where they'd fallen on the floor, she brushed herself off, standing.

Harry stood in front of her.

Wait, no, that wasn't Harry. No scar, hazel eyes…no…that was James Potter. Hermione's eyes widened. "Er. Um. Hello! Yeah. Hi, Mr. Potter," she said with an uneasy grin.

"Rose, how many times do I have to ask you to call me James?"

"At least once more," she said automatically. (A/N: I don't claim this! Even though I don't think it's trademarked. It sounds like my Mya though.) She smiled at her husband's father—god that sounded strange—who just shook his head at her, smiling. "Moony says you needed the library for some project you were doing?" She nodded. "Thought so. Go on down."

"Oh, yes." Damn, it sounded like she'd been here before. "Umm, Mr. Potter?"

"James, but what?"

"Which way is it again? I'm afraid I've been all turned around and I'm not too sure which way I'm going. It's been one of those times," she muttered, rolling her eyes.

"Oh, in that case…Nathalie, can you come help Rose find the library? You know how she gets lost in the halls, right?"

A messy-black-haired, green-eyed girl, whose sharp eyes crackled with awareness, popped up almost immediately, from a corner Hermione hadn't noticed. "I guess. Hey Rose! How are you?" It took Hermione a minute to realize she was talking to her.

"Oh, I'm fine, I guess." She attempted a smile. Rose nodded. "You?"

"I'm okay. Come on. I heard Dad say you were doing a project?" Hermione nodded. "What about?" she asked, seeming genuinely interested.

"Well, it's not a project _for_ anything really, at least, not anything special. Just thought I'd look up some stuff that was bothering me. I might write it up, just in case I want to look back on it later. You know." And in fact, Harry's "little sister" did seem to know. She was obviously very book-friendly—a lot like Harry's hidden side—and Hermione liked her.

"You should send it in to one of the magazines. See if they'd publish it." Hermione blushed. She sounded like Ginny.

"Oh no, my writing's no good. Besides, this is just because I'm curious. Do you know if you have a copy of Alternate Universe Theory by Cassandra Blake? And I'm looking for Meet Yourself by Theodore Korbachev as well."

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure we do. Alternate universes? Is that your new project?" When she nodded, Nathalie grinned. "Cool! Can I help any? Find some more books for you or something? Oh damn. Sorry, I can't. I'm going to go see Ginny and Ashley today. But it'd be cool to help if you come over again."

"Oh, sure…Nathalie," she remembered, slotting the girl's name in at the last possible second before she realized something was up. She grinned. "Thanks, Rosie! Gotta go!"

It took Hermione a minute to realize she was right in front of two huge doors, with a plaque saying _Potter Library_ on one of them. _Lucky you, Harry,_ she thought, just a _bit_ jealous, and pushed open a door.

Bookshelves lined the room up and down, sideways and across. Hermione was in heaven. It was even better than Hogwarts. God, she wished she lived here. She hurried through a small labyrinth of shelves until she reached the middle, seeing a table surrounded by comfy chairs there. There was already someone in one of the chairs. A messy-haired, very quiet someone. **Harry?** Hermione tested.

His head flew up. **Mya?** And then he saw her.

He dropped the book he was reading as he stood. Hermione winced as it hit the ground, but in the next moment, she didn't notice it. Harry pulled her into a tight hug, his strong arms wrapping around her torso. She snuggled into his embrace, burying her head in his shoulder. "I was so _worried_!" he whispered in her ear. "I didn't know where you were, and when I tried to get to you, you blocked me off. Are you okay? You're not…with _him_ again, are you?"

"Stephen?" she asked, referring to her Muggle father. "No. It appears I'm the Lupins' daughter here. Kathy's sister. I assume it's biologically, because otherwise there would have to be a reason, but whatever it is, I really wish it had been this way before." Harry pulled her even closer, if that was possible. He started murmuring apologies in her ear.

"I wish you'd told me, My'," he said sadly. "You would have been with the Weasleys, or at least not there, as soon as you'd told someone."

"Not if Dumbledore had his way," she retorted. Harry just pressed his cheek to her forehead. "You're taller than you were," he realized.

"So are you, boy wonder," she teased. "It comes of having families that care for you and actually feed you. I'm still shorter than you though."

"I don't think you're going to get the jump on me, darling," he laughed. "You're here for what I think you are, right?"

"Research? Right in one. What are you checking now?" Harry walked over to where he'd dropped his book and picked it up. He tossed Korbachev's book at her. She grinned at him and pointed to the chair. "I'm going to see about some more. Is this organized at all?" she asked a little disdainfully, seeing the haphazardly arranged bookshelves.

"I _think_ it's in genres by author, but I could be wrong. See if you can decipher the writing on those bookshelves," he said a little grumpily, opening Meet Yourself, but not focusing on Korbachev's words. He was still complaining about the library. "I'm having some problems. I'm not a disorganized libraries kind of person. I like my books all laid out the right way, not all upset like this one is. If there's anything I'm going to do while we're here, I'm going to rearrange Potter Library. And you better be helping me," he said, unfortunately to thin air. She'd disappeared after his fourth sentence. "Women." He turned back to the book slowly, reading the carefully typed words of the Russian magical scientist. _It has been suggested that every person has a genetic double in an alternate universe, unless the universe was altered long before his or her birth. Indeed, some believe that one has a genetic double no matter the deviation from their original universe-timeline. One such case is the Miller case, when George Miller was visited by gray light in his dreams and the next day woke to see his identical and genetic double sitting across from him at the dining table. The Miller case is one of few recorded communications with residents of alternate universes._

**You know something, love?** Harry queried, bemusedly.

**What now?** Hermione teased with a mental grin.

**I think you might be right about this alternate universe thing.**

**When have I ever been wrong, might I ask? Oh, and I think I found the section we should be looking in. I'm sending some books your way.**

A stack of books probably as tall as him wound their way through the tall shelves and dropped in a perfect tower next to him. **Mya, **he whined. **I might barely make it through this before lunch—it's **_**so**_** unfair.**

**Get used to it, you Einstein-wannabe, you. Now, open that Kilroy I sent and turn to page 225, please.**

**LivingInMyOwnShadow**

**A/N: **Should I even bother to continue posting it, or is this piece of crap best kept between my computer, my friend AJ, and me? The later stuff is better, I think…

I think it's my best work so far, so if you think it's really bad, I should just abandon all thoughts of being a writer before I'm an adult. By the way, is it too light and cheerful in the end bit? I find to be a little too bouncy, but I'm not sure how to rewrite it.

Please leave any thoughts on the piece in a review! This fic is Harry/Hermione-centric, with a big sub-focus on Draco/Ginny—you'll see why later. Not too much focus on the older generation, although they do appear in almost every scene.

**Meghan:** Yeah, she's leaving me out quite a bit. But never fear, I love you all anyway! Even if I _was_ dead for like a whole day—thanks a lot!

**Ashley:** Mum, shut up. And by the way, I think I get to be a bit more of a character in this piece. Love it! Except the suicide bit…

This story keeps a LOT of Angst all through. Most of my stories do. I am not the light and cheerful sort most of the time, only in real life . If that doesn't confuse you! Mya and Harry have a lot to handle before everyone else can find out about them. "Owl" me if you have any ideas! ) They have from September until December to play "Rose" and "Harry". More about their personas in next chapter!

Yeah, that's all I have to say. Please review, if you can be bothered!

Love, LysPotter


	2. Who AM I?

**Disclaimer:** I wish and I wish and I wish…but man, those eyelashes and shooting stars and birthday candles aren't all they're cracked up to be, honest. I don't own, please don't you sue.

**A/N: **Sorry this took so long! I have no trouble writing the middle of the story, but the beginning is terribly difficult!

**Recap Chapter the First, Aftermath:** Harry and Hermione lose everyone they hold dear, only to wake up in a world where it's all been returned. But wait! There are some challenges! Why is Hermione now Roseanne Lupin? Why does Harry's sister have a certain _distaste_ for her brother? And more importantly, _where_ exactly are they and exactly _how_ did they get there? Research, panic, and thought-sharing ensue.

**Chapter the Second: Who **_**Am **_**I?**, in which our hero and heroine endeavor to learn more about Rose Lupin and Harry Potter, and hereto unknown family makes clear certain points.

Three hours later, a couple of sharp knocks came on the library door. Although buried in books, both teens heard it and stood up in unison. "I'll get it," Harry said. "See if you can find any more in the Gardner tome you have there." Hermione shrugged and sat back down, putting her pen to the notepad and returning her attention to the huge book in front of her.

Harry opened the door to see Lily Potter, her hand raised to knock again at his eye level. She deflated and her hand dropped. "Oh, Harry! I was just coming to see if Rose wanted some lunch…are you doing your summer homework, is that it?" she asked, looking curiously at her son.

"Umm, actually, I was helping M—Rose with her project. The subject she's chosen is really interesting. But I'll get right on my homework, I promise. I don't think Mya will forgive me otherwise," he confided, smiling. "Let me go get her. If someone doesn't drag her away from Gardner and Korbachev, she won't eat for days."

He disappeared back into the library. "Mya, Lily's here pressuring us to eat. I don't have to make you come, do I? I will drag you if I must." Hermione sighed and pushed back her chair, leaving Gardner open on the table. She stood up, dragging the back of her hand across her forehead.

"Okay, I'll come, but we're coming right back as soon as we have a bite. And I mean right back, okay?"

"Of course, Mya, whatever you want," Harry said with a roll of his eyes. He grabbed her arm and tugged on it, pulling her away from the table, eyes fixed on the words of her book. "We're going now," he told her when she resisted. "And I won't take no for an answer. You know you need food, and you have to eat. Now."

"Okay, okay, Harry. I'm coming. I'm coming. You can let go of my arm now. Harry…I can walk, I'm okay—Oh, hello, Mrs. Potter."

"Hello, Rosie," said the red-haired mother confusedly. "On a research kick again? And you're letting Harry help you?" Hermione looked from Lily to Harry, and nodded uncertainly at the woman. "O-kay then," was all Lily said, a strange look on her face. Hermione shrugged and she and Harry followed Lily to the dining room adjoining the kitchen.

"So, Mya, done your summer homework yet?" Harry asked her on the way, trying to make conversation. Lily whirled around.

"How do you—"

"Sorry…Rosie…done your summer homework yet?" Harry rephrased the question. Hermione shrugged. "I seem to have misplaced it," she replied. "Can't find it anywhere. I can't think where she—I must have put it," she hastily corrected herself. "I was going to ask K—er, Mum—if she knows where. I think I've left some of it undone at least," she said shamefacedly. Harry laughed.

**Shameless workaholic,** he teased, slipping an arm around her shoulders.

**Possessed miracle worker,** she shot back.

**That was no miracle, kid, that was destiny.**

**I'm only a month younger than you.**

**I'm taller, get used to it.**

**I've already had twenty-four years!**

**But you only knew me for—**

**Nineteen, whatever. Come on, Harry James, we knew each other in preschool.**

**And you were always hiding behind the bookshelves with your books with **_**words**_**. The teachers were so proud of you.**

"Oh, shut up." **Just because you were in the corner with whatever Dudley threw at you—**

**Just because you didn't have an overweight whale on your tail all the time—**

"Didn't know you could write poetry."

"Oh, no one's as good as you, promise, My'."

"Oh really? I'm flattered."

"It worked?" Harry muttered. Hermione whacked him. **Oh, I mean, it's just the truth, love?** he tried with a phony smile. Hermione rolled her eyes. "Really."

"You two…you think of the strangest things," Lily said, not flustered in the slightest. She'd ignored their random outbursts, probably attributing it to a fight she hadn't cared that they were having. Harry and Hermione exchanged twin guilty looks full of relief.

**Good thing she wasn't paying attention,** Hermione voiced their thoughts. Harry nodded vehemently, drawing a deep breath.

"Wonder what's for lunch," Lily said with a grin. "I decided to let the house-elves cook. They were getting a bit bored, I think," she winked at Hermione.

Words bubbled up her mind. Harry shushed her. **Remember, they want it. It's not like us, where we had to, so breathe.** Hermione complied.

**Just saying…honestly, I didn't know you owned **_**house-elves**_**, Harry James.** Harry flushed.

**Well neither did I, so you can just shut up.**

**Meghan never mentioned this place.**

**I know. But this must have been where she met Sirius, and where they fell in love. She did say it was summertime his seventh year he came to the Potters' for most of the summer… **Hermione mused, her eyebrows drawing together. **I wonder where or when everything derailed from the way we know it,** she said thoughtfully.

**It had to start October 1981 at the latest,** Harry commented. **But it might have been earlier. Who knows if Voldemort actually became Voldemort in this universe?**

**He must have, you're the Boy-Who-Lived, remember, boy wonder?**

**Ah, but I'm your boy wonder.**

**That you are. Have you ever wondered why we can yell at each other and call each other ridiculous and demeaning nicknames without bringing up our psychological issues? **Hermione asked very professionally. Harry shook his head to clear it.

**Must you use big words? I have Kilroy and Matthews and Korbachev stuck in my head at the moment because of all our research and I really need a break with some nice simple words for my nice simple head, **Harry complained.

Hermione smiled a razor sharp sarcastic smile. **Simple is right. I mean, why can we put each other down without bringing up what certain Muggles did to us in the past?**

**Umm, because we're comfortable with each other and share the same kind of childhood, unlike the rest of our friends? **Harry tried.

**Good answer. I should write that down. I could probably make some money off that one. I think I'll keep you, **she teased with a mental shove.

**Gee, I feel honored. Now. We're at the dining room. You are going to eat as much as possible so you don't get hungry when you dive back into the books you've de-shelved.**

"Harry, that's not a word."

**Does it matter? No. I just want you to be standing when you Floo home, and I don't want to have to Apparate an unconscious Mya back to her current residence. Okay?** Harry said tiredly.

"Okay then, I'll stay with you."

**Your father would murder me.**

"I wouldn't let him."

**He'd kill me without telling you, and then you'd be left to crow over the huge funeral you'd have to arrange. So no, you're going to eat, and you're going to Floo home with a big stack of books to reference while you write up for me, in nice easy-to-understand words, exactly why and how we are here.**

"Sheesh. Want much, do you? No Christmas present for you."

**Damn! Hey, at least I get a birthday present.**

"Nah, this counts as both."

"Bugger." Lily opened the door and shooed the teens in. Harry pulled out Hermione's chair for her, and then sat down next to her. **Remember, my name is Rose. If you slip up, there's going to be a bit of a problem, because they'll wonder who the hell this "Mya" character is.**

**I know, I know.** Harry grinned at his wife, who just shook her head resignedly. When they looked up, the rest of the family was staring at them. The tips of Harry's ears burned red and Hermione redirected her attention to her plate. Then Harry noticed Remus. His face lit up. "Hey, Professor Lupin," he said with a smile. "How are things?"

Remus looked surprised. He blinked once, twice, three times, and then looked Harry in the eye and said politely, if coolly, "Fine, Harry, thanks for asking." James looked between Harry and Remus, confused a bit more than the others. Then Remus looked at Hermione. "Well. Will you tell us what your project's about now, Rose?" he asked good-naturedly.

"Oh! Did I forget to tell you?" she wondered. "Sorry. I was sure I had mentioned it. I was doing research on alternate universes—I, er, read a book the other day that mentioned it, and I wanted to see what all my other sources had to say about it." She smiled. "I've found everything terribly interesting."

"Had to tear her away from her books," Harry teased her with a wink at his wife, who stuck her tongue out at him. "What? It's the truth, Rose."

"Whatever," she said with a roll of her eyes. "What about the rest of you? How are things going?" she tried to deflect their attention.

"Well, I found a certain someone's holiday homework hidden in his desk," Lily said sternly. When Harry didn't notice, Hermione elbowed him. **She means you, you moron,** she muttered. Harry turned red. **Gee, thanks, Mya, **he muttered. "Oh, yeah, about that…just forgot where I put it, was all," he said hurriedly leaving little to the imagination of his smiling parents. "I'll get down to it immediately, sorry," he added, causing their faces to blank for a moment before they smiled.

"Good idea, son. Don't want to start the year behind, do you?" James said with a wink. Harry nodded, nonplussed. Lily looked over at Hermione. "So, Rose, how's your project going? What's it for? Or just for fun?" Hermione flushed. "Ah, I see. Just the natural bookish side of you making an emergence."

"Or you could call it being a bloody workaholic," Harry muttered. Hermione whacked him upside the head. Then they froze, watching the adults. Lily and Remus sighed. "Rose, no fighting at the table," Remus said. Lily chimed in, "Harry, please try to watch your mouth." Harry and Hermione exchanged looks, but said nothing. Harry tore a bite out of his sandwich.

"Hungry much, Neanderthal?" Hermione said sarcastically a few minutes later. He threw her a dazzling debonair grin. She rolled her eyes at him. He pulled a hurt face and poured her more water.

**Harry, don't, I don't think we get along very well here. Pour it on me by 'accident', that'll clear it up.** Flummoxed, Harry looked at her. She gave the slightest nod of her head and Harry inwardly shrugged. **Whatever you like,** he replied. She mentally grinned at him, raising an eyebrow. **Whatever I like, hmm?** Hermione said suggestively, teasing.

Harry "accidentally"-on-purpose poured a few glasses' worth of ice water on Hermione's lap. She squealed and stood up, reaching for a towel that James silently held out to her.

"Oh, Rose, I'm so, so sorry," Harry pretended to gush. "Have I just ruined your jeans from three centuries ago?" he worried sarcastically.

"Harry James Potter!" Lily exclaimed. "Do _try_ to be nice to your cousin."

Harry put on the most innocent face he could muster. "It was an accident, Mum, won't happen again." He glared at Hermione. **That was fun. Let's do it again sometime.**

**Harry Potter! I meant for you to pour a little on me, you snake!** Harry's infuriated wife squawked, trying to dry her dripping jeans. **You are so dead.**

**Well, I **_**am**_** a Slytherin at heart. And, no, I'm not. See, coincidentally, I'm actually the Boy-Who-**_**Lived**_

"Well, accident or not, I'm going _home_!" Hermione huffed. "Goodbye, Mr. and Mrs. Potter. See you later, Dad."

"But Rose—lunch? Your work?"

"Later, Dad, I'm going home to practice piano and get away from _Harrison_ over there. No offense, Mr. and Mrs. Potter."

She stormed out of the room before they could speak.

Harry's mother glared at him. Harry shrunk into his seat. "It was an accident," he said weakly, worried now.

"I'm sure," his mother said coldly. "Go do your homework, young man."

Harry slunk out of the room, shoulders hunched. _Gee, thanks, Mya. Get me in bloody with my brand new parents. And seriously. Harrison?_

BREAK

Hermione stepped out of the Floo, a bag of books on her back. She put them in her room and then trudged downstairs to find Kate's piano. It had been a long time since she'd played, what with the current fiascos heaped on top of each other. Battles didn't do much for musical skills. It would be a little strange to whip out a piano in the middle of a battle.

Her fingers fell into familiar positions. She started simply, playing through her scales and a few of her constant, easy favorites. A smile turned up the corners of her mouth. Debussy's_ Arabesque_ followed, and she let the music calm her down. The practiced rhythms soothed her tumultuous soul, bringing her further into the way of the world she was now part of. Her eyes watched her fingers dance between black and white, like someone toeing the line between wrong and right. When the music drifted off into silence, she sighed and let her hands fall slack on the keys. It had been a long few years and it was shaping up to be a longer day.

_Step one,_ she told herself, _figure out a little more on Rose Lupin. Get upstairs, Hermione Rose Granger. Reconnaissance mission begins now._

She strode back up the stairs to her room, yawning. She opened her door to reveal her counterpart's mess. "God, Rose, don't you ever clean?" she muttered, kneeling on the floor to collect dirty clothing out of habit. "You're worse than Ron."

She put the dirty clothing in the hamper, promising herself she'd wash them as soon as possible (_before they start to decompose_, she thought wryly), and started to collect Rose's papers. All of them had something to do with reports, or schoolwork, or studying, causing Hermione to laugh and fight a blush. At least that hadn't changed. She was still infatuated with books. Thankfully, there were no letters from boyfriends anywhere around the room. It meant she couldn't be seen kissing Harry, but it also meant she didn't have to pretend to like someone she didn't. She sifted through Rose's desk, finding letters from Ravenclaw friends crumpled in one drawer. "You are the least organized bookworm I know, Roseanne Lupin," she muttered to herself. She set the letters aside to read once she'd finished organizing "her" room. She had cleared off the floor and was in the process of sorting the pile of books and papers on her bed and working toward the similar pile on her desk when a polite knock came on her door. "Who is it?" she called.

"Your mother," Kate's laughing voice came. "Your father is back, and I hear your lunch didn't go so well."

"You could say that," Hermione mumbled. "Come in!" she called to the friendly brunette woman waiting outside her door. The knob turned and in walked the woman Hermione's counterpart called "Mum". _Lucky_. Kate took in the clean floor and her frazzled-looking daughter in one glance, grinning. "Oh my God, Rosie, you have a _floor_! I'm so proud!" she teased. Hermione snorted and neatly stacked another pile of papers.

"Thanks…Mum," she said distantly. "Do you have file folders or a binder or something?" she asked, voice businesslike. "I want to keep this somewhere where it won't disintegrate."

"I might, somewhere," Kate considered. She watched her daughter flick through papers, raking her free long-fingered hand through her messy hair. A smile crossed the young woman's face as she set aside a smudged piece of parchment and flitted away as she turned to the next page. "Why the sudden change of heart, love? I seem to recall that you 'work better with clutter than without', quite forcefully, as well." Hermione's eyebrows snapped together and she watched Kate in confusion. Then she gave her a patented smirking look.

"I'm not allowed to change my mind?" she asked flippantly. "I need something to hold these together, please Mum? I'd conjure a paper clip, but I'm not allowed to do magic out of school…" she pouted imploringly at her mother, who laughed and started for the door. When she reached it, she turned halfway around and smiled.

"I hear Harry managed to pour water in your lap. When are the two of you going to put your petty feud behind you and start dating?" she said wistfully.

Hermione realized that this was supposed to disgust her and reacted appropriately. "Ew! Mum, he's such a _boy_ and he's absolutely horrid! Like I would ever date _Harry Potter_!" she spat out. "Excuse me while I go vomit," she grimaced.

Kate laughed and swung out of the room. "You'll see," her voice carried back to the girl, who mentally applauded herself on her incredible acting skills before bursting out in mental giggles.

Kate was gone for a long time, doing who-knows-what, and Hermione calmly and methodically trudged through the piles of paper and parchment in her room. Four tall piles of evidence later, she realized that she hadn't checked the room over for anything sinister. Which was not up to form at all.

Her hands began to map the sides of her desk. _Best check for a bomb or secret drawer first, then on to hollow walls and secret passageways or booby-trapped paintings,_ her well-trained mind told her. That was why Grimmauld Place had been such a relief. She'd figured the house out and she and Harry had designed all the rooms themselves, leaving no room for tampering with the Imperturbable furniture and very little for messing with the charmed walls. She hated new areas, because it meant too much time was spent searching for any traps or dangerous paraphernalia. Not that she thought Rose Lupin's room was booby-trapped

A drawer popped out beneath her sensitive fingers. She crowed mentally for a few seconds, then reached in gingerly, pulling out a small blue book. A journal? She tossed it on the bed for future reference, pulling out another book, this one green, followed by a red one and a yellow one. She smirked. _House unity much?_ She had no idea why "she" had needed a secret drawer to hide her notebooks. She shrugged and resolved to read them as soon as she'd checked the rest of the room.

Fifteen minutes later, she was satisfied that she'd checked it thoroughly and opened the diaries to read and investigate her counterpart, feeling slightly invasive yet knowing somehow that there was no way Rose would ever return to that body.

She opened the red first. _This notebook, Gwen, represents the red notebook kept by the creator of my house, Anna Rowena Ravenclaw. These writings are the thoughts of my innermost person, composed in verse or prose as seen fit, _the first lines read.It held pieces of poems in a neat, round-lettered script she recognized as her presentation handwriting. Most had to do with observations of friends, random people, and family, whether they were named or not. There was some love poetry closer to the end, and Hermione giggled, wondering about her counterpart's crush. "Gwen" returned to the pile for later perusal.

She opened the green next, which had a similar heading as the red. It was known as Sophia. She read the eighth line and burst out laughing. _Last night I lay in bed looking up at the stars in the sky and I thought to myself; where the heck is the ceiling? _The next line gave her the giggles, remembering a movie about light-swords and universes beyond Earth. _Duct tape is like the Force. It has a light side, a dark side, and it holds the world together._

Obviously this was her collection of quotes and jokes, as the heading said. Hermione flipped through at random, reading inspirational quotes, more silly quotes, and even stupid quotes (_David Acfield: "Strangely, in slow motion replay, the ball seemed to hang in the air for even longer."_). Rose obviously had a sense of humor, she thought, paging through the book with interest. She would enjoy adding to the book, since she 'was' Rose now.

She opened the yellow book. Now Rose's neat handwriting was joined by a bold, round script that apparently belonged to Mandy Brocklehurst and a flourishing script belonging to Padma Patil. As she flipped through the "Gossip Guru's Guide to the Girls and Guys of Hogwarts", or Helen, she brought herself up-to-date on Hogwarts' couples and some of the news from home. She identified at least two Black children besides an A. Black (Ashley, she assumed), probably three, since MB wouldn't refer to Meghan Black. Or at least, Hermione didn't think Meghan and Kathleen Lupin would make a wonderful match. And Nathalie was apparently Harry's only sibling, unless there were other unmentioned children.

Then she opened the blue notebook, knowing that this notebook, the book of Rose's House, would hold something very dear to the Lupin girl.

It was her diary, written in letter form. It was obviously the oldest of the books, having started just after Rose's first Hogwarts year. The typical note that stated the purpose of the notebook was squeezed into the margin, obviously written long after the journal had been started. Hermione settled back onto her pillows and began to read the book Anna, curled up with the notebook like it was a beloved novel that she would read over and over until she could recite it backwards.

_Dear Anna…Potter and Weasley were teasing some poor Hufflepuff first year today. Her bag had split and they had backed her up against the wall so she couldn't pick up her books. I lost it. I told them to pick on someone their own size or I'd tell Mrs. Potter. They ran away so fast, I didn't know they could even move that fast! I handed the girl her books—her name was Sarah—and told her not to mind them…_

_Dear Anna, I ran into Ginny Weasley today. I never really got to know her that well, even though she and Ashley are friends. I figured she'd be too much like her brother Ron for the two of us to get along. But she's really nice, and she actually wants to do well in school so she does a lot of reading. Apparently she and her brother aren't very good friends…_

_Dear Anna, Tallie was Sorted into Ravenclaw today. I was so happy—it's the first time anyone from my home crowd got Sorted into my house except for me. She came and sat next to me, and the rest of my Housemates started asking her about the Boy-Who-Lived. True to form, she ignored them and asked if I'd brought my Jane Austen with me. Of course I had, so we started discussing passive female protagonists as opposed to active ones. Tallie really is too smart for her age sometimes. Stupid Cho Chang, brainless bimbo that she is, kept asking about Potter (Harry) until one of her friends—Marietta Edgecombe—shushed her up…_

_Dear Anna, I think I might have a crush on Draco Malfoy—really, no, it's not that I __**like**__, like him, but he's really cute and he has pretty eyes. I know he's a Slytherin, but he seems like he could be so nice…_Hermione kept reading, a smile fixed on her face as she imagined herself and Draco…then her expression sagged. _Okay, yuck!_ She swallowed and kept on turning pages.

Some time later, Kate knocked on her door. "Rose, do you want a snack?" she asked through the door. Hermione's head jerked up.

"No, thanks. I'm fine," Hermione called back. She wanted to finish this stack of letters she was working through. It seemed her fundamental friendship group was Mandy Brocklehurst, Padma Patil, and Nathalie Potter, which would be easy enough to maintain. The first two, while they hadn't been close friends, were very good people and loyal at that, people she would enjoy hanging out with. She just hoped no one would realize that she wasn't really Rose. She didn't even have the same DNA.

_**I wonder how Harry's researching his counterpart,**_she thought to herself, unknowingly transmitting the thought through the bond.

BREAK

Harry had been sitting in the library reading a novel when that thought came through to him. **I wonder how Harry's researching his counterpart**, he heard his wife say innocently, and he winced.

**Sorry, Mya,** he replied. **Haven't started yet.**

**Well, from what I found in Rose's writings, you're a bullying bastard who thinks highly of himself. No doubt her view is slightly—colored—by the fact that you two grew up together, but no more bullying Hufflepuffs or anyone, really. Including your sister. So be nice to her since she's one of my few friends and your only sister.**

**Yes, ma'am. I'm going to go see what she's working on now, see if I can offer some brotherly help. She came back from Ginny's house and has closeted herself in her room. Something must be up.**

**Yeah, go be a big brother. You're good with kids. Teenagers…maybe.**

Harry smirked and ended the connection. Whatever Hermione said, he wasn't going to believe that he had any special social skills connecting him to children. And especially not his "little sister". She hated his guts, to all appearances. He winced. He knew other people who hated his guts. He could handle that just fine. He just hoped his sister had a different way of dealing with it.

He found her room easily. She hung around that area quite a lot (or at least she had this morning), which made it easy to locate. That and the art hanging on the door were sure indicators of her habitation of the room.

He knocked politely on the door. "Come in," the voice on the other side said tiredly, a rustling of papers drifting through the door. "No," she started to say as he opened the door, "I don't want a snack, I'm fine, I'm doing my home—" she stopped short. "Harry."

"Nathalie," he tried.

"See, that's what's so bloody aggravating!" she exploded. "You interrupt me while I'm having problems with my homework and then you call me by my full name! Only _Mum_ calls me by my full name."

_Tonks syndrome,_ Harry thought to himself. **Mya, what's Nathalie's nickname?**

**Tallie**.

**Thanks.** "Sorry, Tallie, you know I'm an idiot," he said with a self-deprecating smile. "What are you having troubles with?"

"What, so you can make fun of me?" she spat. Harry shook his head vehemently. _I am seriously screwed up if my own sister doesn't like me._

"I just want to help."

"Well, I'm not falling for it. Get out!" She turned back to her books, her papers spread around her on the bed. She used a hair elastic around her wrist to pull her hair away from her face. Harry stood there, watching her, nonplussed. "Go _away_, brother _dear,_" she said with a pinched frown.

"Sorry," he said softly, backing out of the room and closing the door, pausing for a moment to admire the picture on the door, that of a long-haired young woman whose left eye was covered by her hair and her right eye was cast down.

_Damn, she's good._

Then he returned his mind to the issue at hand. "He" hated his sister. And he had to recreate the emotions of his other self for the rest of his life. At least he could change gradually and blame it on puberty.

_Why aren't Draco and Ginny here?_ he asked himself. _They're better at this acting thing than I am._ He sighed, ran a hand through his short hair, and decided to go work on his own holiday homework. _Can't be too hard. I did fifth-year work years ago._

**Some time later**

Sitting at his desk, a pen in his hand and parchment in front of him, he looked down at the page that detailed his homework. It read Write an essay about different physical defenses against the common binding and bludgeoning curses, with reference to conjuration and summoning spells. Harry stared openly. Something was off. He had studied this in fourth year (around the rest of the curses Crouch Jr. had been obsessed with), and they had gone into much more detail than simply physical defenses. Eventually there had even been practice with the binding curses. In _fourth_ year. He was due to start fifth. Maybe this was a post-emptive strike, but that didn't seem like the rest of his classes had been.

He sighed and began to write, the ballpoint pen (a habit picked up from his aunt Meghan) gliding over the parchment. He didn't even want to think of the state of this world's defense if this was in the fifth-year curriculum. Did they even know about magical shields (other than the ever-common Protego, which most people knew of but weren't sure how to cast)? It would be hard to win a war with Jelly-Legs Jinxes.

He kept writing, chewing his lip. Defense came easily to him, as it always had. He would attend to his Divinations work later. Could he drop subjects? It _was_ OWL year, but certainly he could drop Divs for something a little bit more productive, like Arithmancy.

"Harry?"

He dropped his pen, spun around, and took a defensive stance, looking at Lily Potter. He relaxed. "Oh. Hello."

"Are you doing your homework?" She almost seemed to be marveling at the fact. Harry cleared his throat, shrugging one shoulder. "Gods, Harry, this is quite a change. You usually leave it until the night before school begins. I'm impressed."

Harry flushed. "Thanks Mum," he said softly. Merlin it felt weird to say that. "I figured I probably should do it before I lost it."

"Good move," his mother said sarcastically. "Can I get you anything? Water? Need help with anything? Charms?"

"Actually, would it be impossible for me to drop Divination and pick up something else? I don't think much of what we're doing in Divination is going to help me in life."

"Now he listens to me," Lily muttered. "Well, this _is_ OWL year, sweetie. You'd probably have to test into it. What did you want to take?"

"I thought I might like Arithmancy, or Ancient Runes," he said as nonchalantly as he could. His mother raised an eyebrow.

"Isn't that a little ambitious? Those are involved subjects."

"What can I say? I've decided I like challenges!"

"Is that why Nathalie told me you were in there trying to humiliate her?" Lily asked with pursed lips. "Harry, I know you're older than your sister, but—"

"I was just trying to help her with her homework," Harry interrupted. "She got all bent out of shape. It wasn't my fault."

"Well, try not to aggravate her. It's probably best if you just leave her alone, dear."

"Sure, Mum. Could you ask about maybe my taking Arithmancy? Maybe I can suck up to M…to Rose and try getting her to tutor me up to standard?"

"I'll ask the headmaster," his mother relented. "There was something I wanted to ask you. What was it, what was it…Oh. Right. You know your birthday's coming up, right? In a few weeks?"

"Mm-hmm," Harry agreed. "Why?"

"Well, I'm sending out invites for your party. I know to invite Ron, Seamus, and Dean. Your cousins—Meghan and Sirius's kids—are coming over as well. Ashley and Matt and Kalian. The Lupins have decided, in the light of last year's disaster, that they won't inflict Rose on the party again. Is there anyone else you'd like to come?"

Harry bit his lip. He didn't know if this would work out, but he might as well try it out. "Could we invite Neville?"

"Neville Longbottom? Alice's son? Of course we can. I've been meaning to ask Alice over anyway. It's really a pity about Frank…sorry, Harry. Anyone else?"

"Umm, no ma'am—I mean, Mum."

"Well aren't you polite. I should let you get back to your homework. Are you using a ballpoint pen?"

He blushed. "Yeah. It's easy."

"I thought you said those were for Muggles."

"Until I got ink all over my shirt," Harry informed her matter-of-factly. "This is infinitely better."

"That's the Harry I know. Right. I'm going now. Stay away from your sister, she's in a bad mood. She's in the art room, painting, so stay out."

"Mm-hmm," Harry murmured, turning back to his essay.

Lily leaned against the doorjamb, watching her son write furiously in his messy penmanship. _He's growing up,_ she thought to herself.

Why did that thought make her feel weepy?

BREAK

**A/N: **Couldn't resist a bit of sappiness when Lily realizes her Harry's getting older and more mature…Next chapter should contain the fateful birthday party and a frazzled couple, worn out with being people they don't really know. Plus we get to see some other characters, including Harry's cousins!

See you soon (within the month, hopefully)!

Lys Potter xoxo


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